


The Attic

by UnholyHelbig



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Creepy Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 15:03:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15221771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnholyHelbig/pseuds/UnholyHelbig
Summary: Chloe Beale finds an old flashlight in the attic of her childhood home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As of right now, this is a five-part story, but that might change if I feel like I'm being too rushed with the details. This is really just a story that I thought had a creepy edge to it and wanted to share with you guys. I live in the south, and the south has it's old and atmospheric houses.

**The flashlight was**  weighted against her grasp, a heavy mix of metal and plastic with a slowly flickering bulb that would buzz to anything but the naked ear. It cast an odd circular glow, one that was a golden sliver of daylight in the musty old attic.

Chloe hated the attic; a small space that could mostly be avoided, but in today's heat, it seemed blunt and unwavering- it's scent like mold and sweat. Maybe she had been up there too long, the slowly climbing temperature doing nothing for her standards, or maybe she was just dehydrated. But her focus didn't deviate from the flashlight in her grasp.

She let out a shaky sigh, condensation slowly pooling against her chest and curved collarbone. Chloe was a lanky girl- the first to sprout a few inches in her eighth-grade class, but the last to realize that height didn't really change the fact that she had bright red hair that would always deem her the title of an evil demon. She had grown into her feet and her stature, earning looks from the very people that doubted her in high school.

Now the pediatrician was beyond sure of herself and her abilities as a Ph.D. None of that old stuff seemed to matter- not the yearbooks, the teasing, the horrid fluffy dresses she wore to prom… or at least it didn't matter until she had crawled her way back into the dusty clutches of this place.

There was supposed to be an estate sale later- one that finally cleared out her mother's old Victorian house for good. This place was supposed to stay in the family- to garner hope for future generations of Beales. The job offer in New York was calling the young doctors name, however, one the made it near impossible to keep this place in her name.

"Are you admiring the view up there?" Her girlfriend's voice echoed from the small hallway that gave the only access to the upper part of the house. There was nothing much to see, nothing other than some bare wooden walls and a bunch of pink siding that was unusually tempting to the young woman.

A simple smile moved across Chloe's lips as she flipped the flashlight off, pressing a small rubber button that got rid of one of her only lights sources. It plunged her into a warm darkness. She blinked a few times, shoving the flashlight into the edge of her belt loop as she breathed in the musty air.

"I'm coming down now," She announced, testing out the top rung of the wooden ladder, listing to the aged surface creak and groan as she hung onto a piece of paneling for dear life- nails splintering wood. She heard Beca shifting against the wooden floor below her, biting the inside of her lip as the smaller girl stared at her. She stepped down a few more rungs before meeting stormy blue eyes at level, her hand still grasping one of the edges. "Who's admiring the view now?"

Beca threw her head back and groaned, scratching slightly at her dirtied cheek as she stared at the inky black opening that was left above them. "It's your fault for wearing yoga pants, Chloe. Not mine."

"God, you're like a dog in heat."

"If that's what you want to call it." She kicked sheepishly at the floor, the taller girl shook her head slightly as she listened to the springs creak and groan once she lifted the ladder into the very secret hiding place on the latch. She cringed as the rope that hung from the ceiling burned against her palms.

"I would like to call it unfair." Beca continued, snaking her arms around Chloe's waist as the girl let out a small yelp- both parties ignoring the balky flashlight that hung lazily against a belt loop. "I have been moving furniture all day."

"So, you must be tired then," Chloe pointed out to her, adjusting her arm around the woman's shoulders. They were aching, her own exhaustion creeping in. "Baby, even if I were comfortable having sex in my childhood home, Aubrey is going to be here any minute with the papers."

"She can watch."

_"Beca."_

"Fine."

It wasn't a normal conversation the two would share- but Beca had been on edge lately. Her own career plowing forward in the Big Apple as well, the small DJ traveling home every other weekend for the past six months in order to get some face to face time with Chloe. It had been scarce and getting on a plane just to clean up an old house wasn't on her to-do-list, especially if  _Aubrey Posen_  was involved.

As if on cue the swift three toned knock on the mahogany door. It echoed against the nearly empty corridors, traveling up the staircase as Chloe didn't waste any time pulling away from her girlfriend. Her very defeated girlfriend who let out a soft groan and willed her legs to follow Chloe down the carpeted steps.

Even Beca had to admit, the house was beautiful; it was large and whimsical, something that was made out of a children's book or maybe even a vintage dollhouse. Even the front door had a red and orange stained glass window that outlined the blurred silhouette of Aubrey's straight-laced persona. She stopped halfway down the staircase, leaning against the banister while Chloe pulled open the creaking hinges to get a good look at the lawyer.

The blonde beamed, her deep olive eyes flicking momentarily towards Beca before focusing on her friend instead. She didn't mind the dirt covered girl as she wrapped her in a tight hug, Chloe never one to turn down an embrace, closing her eyes as she breathed in the lemon scent Aubrey always seemed to carry.

"uh," Aubrey pulled away, wrinkling her nose "You stink."

"You're telling me." Beca mumbled scratching her neck as she put on a fake smile "Hi, Aubrey."

"You try getting a whole house ready for an estate sale and then we'll talk Posen." She chided jokingly, turning around to face Beca with an accusatory finger point. "You hush,"

"Hi, Beca." Aubrey chuckled slightly, closing the door behind her with a soft thud. "Someone is grumpy today."

"I am grumpy every day." She drew out her syllables with every passing second, letting out a huff as she flopped down onto the step directly under her- it pressed against the middle of her back but she stifled a wince- instead playing with the hem of her shirt.

Chloe rolled her eyes and turned back to her friend, stare flashing close to the documents that the woman held in her hands. "Are those them?"

"Mm," She hummed, waving the packet around slightly "The biggest part of this is your on-site. You can keep all of the money you get from this, but anything that's left behind has to be donated to HFH. But we can always wait a few days and change up the contract-"

"No, that's fine." Beca said from her curled up ball on the steps, earning an accusatory look from Chloe, causing the restless girl to backtrack "I mean, it's charity, right? Habitat for Humanity?"

Aubrey nodded pensively as she ran her fingers over the edge of the paperwork. Beca swears this type of legal work was a turn on for the young lawyer. Well, any type of legal work was a turn on for her. She would get off on the different type of highlighters she needed to use and the scent of freshly changed toner.

"She's right, Chlo, eager, but right." She shrugged "This would be your easiest route, it's how most estate sales go in the first place. What doesn't sell get's donated, but with the type of stuff your mother kept around I'm sure you'll have no trouble clearing it up."

"It's fine," Chloe confirmed with a nod of the head. "I just don't know how all this stuff works. The cleaning I can do… the legal-"

"Is why you have me," Aubrey finished her sentence, boasting a smile that could blind the gods. "I just need you to sign a few things and you'll be all ready to open the doors tomorrow."

 **Chloe wrapped her**  fingers around the fabric of her shirt, white knuckling the bunch of threads as her hand rested on her chest- it was rising and falling with upmost rhythm. She was staring at the ceiling in what used to be her parent's room- the only four post bed that was still in this place. Others were around, but they were covered in white sheets, white sheets that had dust coating every inch of the place.

This place had been her home. For the longest time, it was where she would curl up after a rough nightmare, or a horrible date. She would cuddle into her mother's side while she stroked her hair and whispered things in her ear to calm her heart rate.

Now it was cold and desolate. Nothing was in the room except for the queen-sized mattress and an old television that only got three stations. It was sitting on the floor now- turned off because there was no point in flicking it on. A floor length mirror was propped on the parallel edge of the bed, Chloe wanting to cover that too.

Chloe didn't bother crawling under the blankets. It was too hot in the room, the flashlight heavy in her other hand as she balanced the cool metal weight in her grasp. She ran her fingers along the beaded edge, pressing her fingers into the indentations.

"What are you thinking about?" The muffled voice from the bathroom doorway caught Chloe's attention. Beca was leaning heavily against it, a toothbrush shoved into her cheek as she struggled not to let the frothy mint spill over her lips.

"Who said I was thinking at all?" She pondered, lifting her eyebrows as she settled In the plush bedding and flicked her stare back up the ceiling.

"Well, you only get that look when you're thinking," Beca said, her voice echoing as she walked back into the bathroom, spitting the contents that filled her mouth into the sink with a small grunt. "Or when you're climaxing, which I certainly hope you're not doing without me."

"Beca," Chloe groaned as her small girlfriend walked back into the room. She nearly dodged a pillow being chucked at her head, instead, she clenched onto the fabric. She let out a small grunt as she flopped down onto the bed next to the taller girl.

"I'm sorry, I know." She grumbled, running her fingers over the sheets. Her stare moved back up the Chloe's as she propped herself up on her elbows. "You uh, you've had this kind of sick look on your face since this morning… I thought it was the heat, but I'm not so sure anymore."

Chloe let out a thick sigh, not pulling her eyes from the ceiling.

"I'm usually the one to shut myself out, you know?" Beca said, adjusting her position to face the ceiling as well. She let her hand fall close to Chloe's fingers playing absently with her girlfriends. "I'm used to talking about feelings and-"

"I grew up here." Was all Chloe said, voice cutting through the room, "It's not like I didn't do everything to get out of this place once I had enough money to go off to college I did. And I didn't look back- not on this house, this town, or my mother… but now that I'm here…"

She trailed off, drawing in a sharp breath. Beca didn't need her to continue to come to the sudden realization that this was painful for Chloe. She was never good at reading social cues, so she pushed herself into her work and followed every order that Chloe barked out until her arms begged for mercy.

Beca warped her arm around Chloe's waist, pulling her head onto the girl's chest. The redhead let out a content sigh as she pulled her girl closer to her side, breathing in the scent of mint and ginger that Beca carried.

"Tell me about her," Beca said, breath hot on Chloe's skin.

"Hmm?"

"Your mom, tell me about her." the smaller girl whispered. "If uh… if you want."

Chloe didn't say anything for a few long moments. She drew little patterns on the small of Beca's back, her heartbeat and breath almost lulled the girl into a light sleep. She didn't want to push Chloe, not now. When she felt a sharp intake of air, she knew she was ready to talk.

"We never really had much money, so she worked two jobs." She spoke, voice a low murmur. "Most of the time she was a librarian, it didn't pay much but she loved it. She loved the smell of the books, and the way people would just share a newfound form of peace whenever they walked through the doors. Other than that, she worked at a grocery store. Never really had a day off.

"She took care of me and Annie though, she did… and she kept this house too. For as long as I can remember she always wanted me to keep this place. It was part of the family history, I guess. My grandparents had it under their name before hers, and their parents before them. It's always been the Beale's place."

"Chlo," Beca started to protest. She didn't want to push them into this argument again. Even before Beca flew in she had suggested Chloe keep this place. She was so fast to dismiss her, so fast to say that this was holding her back in Georgia. At the soft look she received, she dropped it, though.

"I don't feel guilty about selling it," She said, voice a low grumble "I feel uneasy. But I don't feel guilty."


	2. Chapter 2

**The loud clatter**  of metal against a hardwood floor stirred Chloe from a less than peaceful sleep. She drew such a sharp breath that burned against an already raw throat, her mouth dry and unforgiving as she kept her eyes clenched shut- not wanting to deal with whatever had been knocked from her grasp in the first place.

Beca was still pressed flush against her side, nails digging into her stomach as if she didn't want her girlfriend to stir. The older girl didn't remember her eyes drifting shut, or even how she had left off the conversation with Beca. The noise had clearly woken the both of them, but neither wanted to acknowledge it.

Chloe groaned against the sleep that still plagued her stiff body, laying in this position was hell on her back and neck, but she knew it made Beca comfortable to a certain extent. Usually, the two would pull apart of shift during the middle of the night, but neither of those things seemed to happen in the old house.

"mm," She felt her girlfriend's words vibrate against her chest. "What time is it?"

"I don't know, baby." Chloe used her free hand to rub the sleep from her eyes. She quickly regretted the movement, feeling the pain of moving furniture and shifting through old documents that her mother had laying around before her passing- she saved everything. It didn't' matter if it was a simple Easter card made out of macaroni and crazy glue or a high-school diploma. It was all filed away somewhere, not systematically, but somewhere.

She blinked a few times, not sure if the bright light that rushed through the room was due to a rising sun, or an old bulb that was across the perimeter. It too sat on the floor. Not giving anything much illumination, but it was enough. Chloe decided that it was still late. The blinds outlined by a dull moonlight instead of what the sun could produce.

"Still late," she sniffed, pulling herself away from her counterpart softly, not wanting to disturb her too much. The two of them must have dozed off for a few moments while talking. She knew she didn't sleep longer than a couple of hours- if that. Deep cobalt eyes quickly rushed to the flashlight that had fallen from her grasp and tumbled to the floor. It had rolled under the bed.

Chloe shook her head, slowly slinking off the bed to get down on her hands and knees. The ground was rough, cold as it soaked through the only pair of sweatpants she had brought with her. She could hear the springs of the mattress creak and groan as Beca blinked herself, propping up on her elbow to peer over the edge of the bed.

"It was the flashlight?" She scratched the back of her neck, knowing the answer already as Chloe pushed her shoulder against the floor blindly, her fingertips feeling around for the fallen device. She met it quickly, having cleared out underneath the bed a few days ago when they arrived in Georgia.

Her probing grasp touched two separate halves of the light- one that was cold and metal, the silver exterior, the other a plastic film that had once been covering the device. Great. Another thing broken. Okay, maybe it wasn't such a big deal, but her sleep ridden mind was making it into one. She huffed as she palmed both sperate pieces and sat back on her ankles. She shook her head.

"Oh," Beca was cross-legged, peering over the side of the mattress at this point, pursing her lips at the item they were sure to throw away after this. She softened at the discontent on Chloe's features, though, knowing that she was already at the end of her patience when it came to this house.

She was holding the protective glass in one hand- it was filmy and needed to be replaced anyway. The light seemed fairly new, the bulb still intact despite how easily the two parts broke away. It left a hollow tube that was dark despite its purpose.

"Hm," Chloe grunted, setting the glass aside as she focused more on the silver casing. She flipped it over and started to press it against her opposite palm, leaving red welts each time she pulled away. Beca cocked her head to the side like a lost puppy- in this case, she was. It was just a light. Chloe had this inert attachment to it since she came back down from the attic, though.

Both girls fell deeper into silence as a little paper flew from the casing, falling so delicately in the red head's palm. It was like a feather that had suddenly caught the right edge of wind. Weightless and curled at the edges from being shoved into a light that rested so far in an attic that Chloe was still shocked that she had even found it.

III-IV-VII-XXXV

It was written in soft brown ink. Maybe at one point it had been black, the paper a stark white that had faded to a sickly yellow. The haze had been burning thickly into the color for as long as the paper had been mysteriously shoved into it.

Chloe ran her thumb over the numbers, finally moving her murky gaze up to her curious counterpart. She had the covers curled around her fingers now, burrowed into it like each passing second made her draw back into herself. There was an unexplainable chill in the drab room.

"What is that?" Beca asked, sniffing slightly.

"Not sure," Chloe raised herself back up onto the edge of the mattress, letting Beca get a good look at the parchment that had fallen from the device. She grasped it easily, pressing her touch against the indentations that the pen had made so many years ago. They were significant and rushed, ink even seeping into the corner of the torn paper. "It's weird that it's in there though, right?"

"I suppose," Beca hummed, close to losing interest in the conversating as she thrust the paper back towards her girlfriend who took it gratefully- not finished staring it down or analyzing it yet. "I'm sure it's just some type of serial number or something. You know, for the manufacturers."

Chloe shook her head slightly, not taking her eyes away from the numbers. "In Roman numerals, Bec?"

"you never know," Beca settled back into the little spot of blankets that she purposely arranged so that she could curl up in the middle of them- completely destroying her badass persona as soon as she got a little sleepy. "Julius Caesar must have loved this brand of flashlight."

Chloe blew a puff of air out of her nose, not having the true energy to laugh at her girlfriend's antics. Instead, she set the light aside, shoving the paper back into its natural place before reaching over to the little desk lamp that was giving the small room it's unnatural glow. She flicked it off- plunging the two into darkness before sleep finally overtook them- neither thinking too much about the little paper in an even smaller flashlight.

 **Aubrey's feet hung**  off the side of the counter, her palms digging into the rough edge as the older blonde struggled to keep her legs still. She felt like a kid at a candy shop, fondly recalling the times she had spent in this kitchen as a kid, on this very counter more than once.

It was a sunny day in the middle of summer, the Georgia heat too strong to do anything more than lean against the cool grass and stare up at the slowly dissipating clouds. She and Chloe had been sitting in the backyard while doing just that- hands still sticky from popsicles that dribbled before they could even consume half of it.

The sickly aroma of artificial sweetener must have drawn in some insects, or bees the be specific. Aubrey knew she wasn't allergic or anything, but as soon as one had dug it's pointed stinger into the flesh around her elbow she couldn't help the tears from boiling over and sliding down her cheeks. Chloe panicked. Chloe's mother didn't.

She simply lifted the squirming six-year-old into her grasp and carted her into the air-conditioned kitchen. Even the change in temperature was enough to shock the girl into sniveling slightly into the woman's chest instead of sticking to the drawn-out sobs that had torn at her throat. She shook as Mrs. Beale set her on the edge of the counter right by the fridge.

The woman soothed her with soft coo's, rubbing Aubrey's back before quickly stirring a mix of cornstarch and warm water together. The blonde watched her carefully, the woman kind with such soft eyes. They looked exactly like Chloe's; kind and forgiving as she struggled to make conversation that would distract the young girl long enough to smear the cold blend of powder and water onto the welt that slowly grew.

"You're okay." She said softly, still rubbing small circles on the girls back as the pain started to fade out into nothing more than a dull ache. "You're okay."

"Aubrey," Beca's deep voice pulled the blonde from her thoughts as she snapped her water brimmed eyes up towards the brunette who was sitting with her back against one of the dining room chairs. She had her computer opened in front of her- the glow casting an odd shadow against her face.

She was weary, having been responding to emails all day. Somehow the woman got a chance to get at least a week off work to make the trip to Georgia. That didn't mean her workload changed, she still had clients that expected to be taken care of for the cash they produced. It wasn't unreasonable, but at this point, it was annoying.

"You okay, dude?" She asked, flicking her eyes back to the screen to close out of the programs that were taking up her dash. She wasn't going to be able to focus much anyway, swallowing thickly to avoid the nausea that pushed against her core. It was the worry. Worry about Chloe. The girl halfway through a long shower as her girlfriend and best friend sat in an uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah," Aubrey knit her eyebrows together, her tone edgy and defensive as Beca leaned back in her seat and closed the computer. She was used to the hostility when it came to Aubrey- it had been there since day one at Barden. The girl softened, however. "Yes, I am. I was just thinking."

Beca nodded absently, playing with the edge of the kitchen table as she looked at the checkered floor. It was like something out of a diner in the 80's the black and white colors were staggered, the white faded to nothing more than a light yellow- no matter how many times Aubrey had taken a toothbrush to it this week. It was a clean as it could get- the whole entire area smelling like lemon and baking soda.

"I never met her," She finally said not dragging her stare away from the focus point she had chosen- a colored magnet on the fridge. It was one part of a larger set. The whole alphabet. Now it was just a single red S. "Chloe's mom… I mean."

Beca once again swallowed against the lump in her throat as she lifted her stare to meet Aubrey's olive one. They didn't always look so green- they were usually a deeper shade of blue or even grey- but when she was upset they were green. Not quite envy, but sadness.

"She was sick when Chloe and I started dating." Beca continued "She was gone before graduation… but I'm sure you already knew that."

Beca trailed off, wiping her palms stiffly on her jeans. The fabric was cold compared to her touch which was clammy and shaking. Emotions hadn't ever been the girl's strong suite- so much in fact, that her and Chloe never really talked about family much. She went to the funeral two years back and held Chloe while she sobbed openly and wouldn't pull herself away from the bathroom floor for a whole week. She was supportive… she was, but Chloe still refused to open up about her mother, just like Beca shied away from her alcoholic father. It was a topic that each could silently agree on was untouchable.

"She would have liked you," Aubrey said, finally, lowering herself off the counter as she grasped the white mug of coffee that wasn't as appetizing as it was before. She had burned it, lost in her stupor of thought long before Beca wondered into the kitchen and settled herself at the little table.

The taller blonde sat in the chair opposite from Beca now, struggling to regain feeling in her legs as she ran her finger over the soft handle in her grasp. "She was eccentric, you know? Wasn't always… but towards the end, Kelley started to get into different studies. She liked figuring out how things work, just like you do."

"Studies?" Beca leaned forward in her seat, interested.

"Yeah," Aubrey waved her hand in front of her face, swallowing thickly to get rid of the sour taste in her mouth. "She started studying cryptography. It was a good distraction from the pain, I think. She really liked codes and riddles, would spend days at a time trying to decipher some of them."

"That's cool," Beca's eyes flashed in excitement. She had always loved that kind of thing too- Chloe had never mentioned it, but she wasn't surprised. "Very Goonies."

"Right," Aubrey laughed, shaking the morose feeling she had as she recalled Kelley in such a fond light. "I'm sure there is a secret treasure in this house somewhere."

The two of them laughed, the sound of a shower and rusty pipes still thick in the air. It was groaning and creaking just like this old house. The shared moment died down, leaving two silent women- one staring idly at her hands, the other gazing out the window at a backyard she could never quite forget.


	3. Chapter 3

**She stared carefully**  at the locked chest- a giant mechanism made out of deep cherry wood and plastered gold buttons. It was locked, locked from the outside in. Its rosy exterior was chipping away to weathering and rust- making the thing look more like it belonged in the cargo hold of the RMS Titanic than in Chloe's attic.  _What used to be her attic_.

Her knee was aching against aged wood, hand draped lazily on the leg that was raised. The young redhead was kneeling so close to the thing that she hadn't even realized when her toes started to lose feeling at the mercy of gravity. That damned silver flashlight was still clenched in her chaotic grip. She refused to let it go.

Chloe's hair was still damp from her morning shower, breath short and labored as she clenched her deathly blue eyes shut. The water was still running, pipes groaning past a rusty edge as she struggled to regulate her thoughts. It was no secret that the Beale family was harboring their own secrets- even when Chloe's mother came down with stage four cancer. It was too late to operate, too far gone to catch any type of relief. It was a secret the young woman had harbored, even from Beca, through most of college.

A thick spark of guilt still plagued her for that, knowing that the young brunette would just try her best to make Chloe feel like she wasn't alone in this cruel world, but Chloe had no problem with being alone. She actually craved it when she heard the news from her mom over the phone. She needed space- needed a second to separate her crowded thoughts like strands of sweet and sickly licorice. Those red ropes edging towards disgusting after shoving too many into your mouth.

It still didn't explain why she felt the need to sneak away from the steam filled bathroom and into the attic. It left such a sour taste in her mouth- thinking of the two women who were the most important to her sitting in a half-filled kitchen with nothing more to dwell on than the expertly carved sidings and stained kitchen floor. They would kill each other in a few minutes of their buffer didn't finish up her quick shower- except it wasn't so quick. Chloe was very much rooted in her spot.

She knew she had seen Roman numerals before- Latin being something her family edged into her mind. Even if it was a dead language. It was insightful and in ways mysterious to have a certain understanding of why words were the way they were- why the English language ticked like a slowly counting bomb that could be rearranged and cut in different ways.

It was this chest.

She could never get into it- not when she was forced to clean the attic when she was younger or now as a fully-grown adult with a pension for pouting and using those same blue eyes to get her way. The fact was, Chloe Beale couldn't have her way with this little family relic. Not until now. Not until she held that little piece of parchment between aching fingers.

There was a lock, one with four slots. Each one could be turned and fiddled with until they displayed some type of number. The numbers that were most likely in the girls grasp now- her breath caught in her throat as she flicked her gaze haphazardly towards the trap door to the attic once more. It was no or never- soon Aubrey would press her knuckle against the door to the bathroom and bust it down soon after if she didn't receive some form of life.

Chloe steadied herself, whimpering slightly as she pressed the pad of her index finger easily against the first number. Three. A slight click moving through the air as the lock loosened. That was a good sign, a one in nine chance that maybe the next couple of numbers would fit and morph to her touch.

Four.

Seven.

Thirty-Five.

The last number was an outlier, something that made Chloe crease her brow as she placed both palms along the edge of the chest, situating her touch until she had a good grip on the varnished wood. She pulled back slightly, breath held in her throat as she listened for that familiar pop of stale air rushing out of a composed compartment. This time it brought a rough and rancid scent to the woman's lungs- making her bite her tongue.

Chloe leaned back on her ankles, lifting the large top with a creak- two large leather ropes held the two pieces together, strained and taut from the extra weight that was now added to its pull. The inside of the chest was lined with deep wallpaper- buds of red petals spreading across an off-white background. It was peeling where the cherry wood met the parchment, waterlogged and stained.

Chloe leaned forward, peering into the dark case. Such a large container felt excessive for the bound leather book that rested in the right corner, a dark square compared to the overwhelming color. A smaller black box rested right next to the bound literature- Chloe's mouth edging into the far side of dry as she ran her fingers over the cover- it was rough and unforgivable against her skin- sending a chill through the base of her spine.

"This doesn't make sense." She mumbled to herself because no, it didn't. Her mother was a very private person during her final years, but the girl had attributed that to her lack of good health. She in no way figured some random old flashlight would lead to something like this- a stack of family secrets that she had no business digging through.

She pulled the book from the bin, moving back to her original position on her ankles. They stung as the girl worked at the leather knot that tied the pages together- an odd sound filled the air, mold thick in her lungs as she pulled the cover apart. The parchment creaked, it was the same paper that the code for the lock was scrawled on- the coloring dark and changed.

"Librum vitae et mortis" The Red Head mumbled, running the pads of her fingers over the slightly raised text on the first page, the letters in fine and drawn out cursive. Speaking the words made a burning edge press against the inside of Chloe's throat, but she swallowed it down.

The girl shook her head as she set the book aside, making a mental note of reading through it later. Instead, she grasped the other item in the box; a velvet box that was fastened with yet another clasp, this time without an impenetrable lock- just a magnet that gave some resistance against her pull.

There was a silk lining, a single yellowed lightbulb nestled within its deep blue clutches. A single light bulb that looked like it belonged nestled in the very light that Chloe had set aside to her right- her gaze flashing towards the silver casing as she drew in a breath.  _Why so much protection for a three-dollar bulb?_

 **Chloe shifted with**  uneasiness next to her girlfriend, the usually outgoing and cheery girl was drawn in on herself. It was understandable, really, it was. Chloe was standing in the middle of her childhood living room while random people combed through the furniture that she had struggled to part with in the first place.

Aubrey had dutifully taken over the role as the main speaker in this situation, greeting people with a dazzling, yet forced, grin. It came from her years working in retail; the push and pull of the job based off how well you could convince people that you were actually enjoying yourself. She wasn't. No one really was. Not of the three girls who have tucked away into themselves.

Beca kept a keen eye on the woman next to her, glancing up into ultramarine eyes whenever she allowed her gaze to wonder. Chloe was checked out- her expression glazed over and distant as she shifted her weight from one foot to another- on occasion giving the smaller brunette a struggled smile.

"Chlo?" She finally tried, feeling out each syllable as she caught the Red Head's attention. She pursed her lips, waiting for Beca to speak. "Do you maybe want to get some air?"

A strange look crossed Chloe's features. Did she want some air? There was plenty of it in the house- though stale and dusty, it was still there. Aubrey's own stare flashed away from showing a younger couple a pair of edged candlesticks, waiting for a response that would allow her to release half the breath she stored in her throat. Her company clearly didn't trust her stability in this situation.

"Yeah, Beca. Let's go get some air." She mumbled, surrendering not to herself, but to her girl. It would make the smaller woman feel some degree of comfort that Chloe knew she had been craving since she stepped foot into the old Victorian. She had done so without asking too many questions or pushing too hard on subjects she knew Chloe was willing to bury. So of course, Chloe would get some air with her girlfriend. Aubrey had things handled in here.

She leads the way to the back door, abandoning the thoughts of pushing past a few questioning people who stared longingly at the stained glass doors. The sun streamed against them in such a poetic way- casting a deep crimson onto the hardwood floor- catching the particles of dust that had stirred from every aspect of the house.

The Georgia air was hot and unbearable, instantly pushing her back into the mindset of the attic. She had left the light up there- doing so much as placing it into the locked chest itself before realigning the books that had been placed on top of it, so it didn't' look too disturbed. She didn't know why, but she wanted it to look exactly the way she found the scene.

Chloe lowered herself into the white painted bench that hung from two weathered chains- they were once silver and glowing but had surrendered themselves to the mercy of the weather. They held up nicely, though, creaking and growing as she flopped down against the heated wood, Beca following suit with a little more grace as she placed her palm on Chloe's knee, squeezing it with nothing more but comfort.

They sat in silence.

Beca was worried, worried that Chloe had stepped foot back into this house and clung to memories that were etched into old scrapbooks. The younger woman knew this house like the back of her hands based off of old polaroid's and stories that the Red Head had pulled back enough to share with her. She could pinpoint exactly where her mother had marked up her children's height- even if it had been painted over since then for continuity, as Aubrey put it.

"You okay?" Beca finally asked, not taking her stare off of the fence that was directly in front of them- she had her main focus on a little hole in the wood, knowing that it was better than continuing to glance around the yard in distraction. She already knew the answer.

"I went back into the attic," Chloe spoke, ignoring the question. Beca didn't pry.

"I thought we finished clearing that out last night."

"We did," Chloe said she was staring down at her feet- they touched the marble patio while Beca's hovered a bit over the grout that so desperately needed to be scrubbed. It wasn't her problem though, it was the next owners- if anyone could ever take this place off the market. "Except for that chest."

"The thing you couldn't open?" Beca's voice raised at the prospect of a little mystery. This was the south, she was admittedly bored out of her mind when it came to everything that happened around here. The most heat she had gotten was when they went out to lunch at a small café the other day and the waitress almost pitched a fit over what was considered sweet tea.

Beca didn't know there was a difference, but from the pleading look, she got from Chloe she knew to drop the subject and suffered through a drink that made her teeth buzz and stomach churn. There was in fact, a difference.

"Mm," Chloe hummed, wanting to delve into the mystery more than into her own mommy issues at this point. "That paper that fell out of the flashlight opened it up- I knew those numbers looked familiar."

"Oh?" Beca knit her eyebrows together as she faced Chloe. The smaller girl looked a bit uncomfortable with the subject, but if this is what Chloe wanted to focus on for the next couple of days of their stay then she would very clearly submit. "Anything interesting?"

"A book," Chloe chuckled at the odd look on Beca's face "So clearly not interesting to you."

"You know Beale,  _I can read._ " Beca shot off at her girlfriend with a playful shove of the shoulder, making the bench creak and groan under them. It didn't seem to bother either of them, though.

"Not Latin," Chloe defended with a smile. "And neither can I. Not quickly anyway… I think we should sit down and actually look through it tonight."

"Okay." Beca sounded out the words slowly and carefully. She had been doing that a lot lately. Making sure that she kept her sentences well thought out. Chloe didn't mind, she could wait. She knew Beca always needed to craft what she wanted to say. It was nice, really, that the younger girl cared enough about what she said to mull over it. Besides, her face looked endearing when it was all scrunched up and concerned. "I'll consent to that. But no freaky candles or Ouija boards, alright?"

Chloe let out a throaty scoff. Her family wouldn't allow one of those in the house anyway. They weren't toys, and she knew that. But something told her- this flashlight was a little more than just a simple appliance.


End file.
